‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
were empties and butts left around by some louse,
and the last quart I hid by the chimney with care
had been swiped by some bum who had found it down there.

My guests had long since been poured into their beds,
to wake in the morning with god-awful heads,
my wife, too, was cold, with her chin in her lap,
and me - I was dying for one more nightcap!

When up from the lawn there came such a yell
I sprang to my feet to see "what the hell...."
away to the window I tore like a flash,
fell over the table, broke a chair with a crash.

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow
made me think of the oil bills and all I did owe;
when what to my wondering eyes shoud show up
but eight bloated reindeer hitched to a beer truck.

With a little old driver who looked like a hick,
but I saw it was Santa, as tight as a tick.
Like General Grant tanks those reindeer they came,
and hiccuped and burped as he called them by name.

"On Schenley! On Seagram! We ain't got all night,
you too Haig and Haig, and you, Black and White!
Scram up on the roof! Get the hell off this wall!
Get going you dummies, we've got a long haul!"

So up on the roof went reindeer and truck,
but a tree branch hit Santa before he could duck,
and then, in a twinkle, I heard from above,
a hell of a noise that was no cooing dove.

Then I pulled in my head and cocked a sharp ear;
down the chimney he came, right flat on his rear!
He was dressed all in furs, with cuffs on his pants,
the way the guy squirmed, I guess he had ants.

His droll little mouth made him look a bit wacky,
and the beard on his chin was stained with tabaccy.
He had pints and quarts in the sack on his back,
and a breath that could blow a train off the track.

He was chubby and plump, and he tried to stand right
but he didn't fool me - he was high as a kite!
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
and missed half the stockings, the plastered old jerk!

Then putting five fingers to the end of his nose,
he gave me the bird, and up the chimney he rose.
He sprang for his truck and slid on his face,
but finally managed to flop into place.

But I heard him burp back, ere he passed out of sight,
"Merry Christmas, you rumdums - now really get tight!"